


same old fears (wish you were here)

by wolfsupremacist



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Asexuality, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 14:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsupremacist/pseuds/wolfsupremacist
Summary: “Are you okay?” Taeyong asks, bumping his hip against Johnny’s.“I’m asexual,” Johnny confesses, water still dripping from his cheeks.“Oh,” he says. “Congratulations.”





	same old fears (wish you were here)

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer before u dive in: i am not ace, nor have i been in a romantic relationship with an asexual person before. nonetheless, i tried my best to write as accurate a representation as i could. asexuality encompasses a broad spectrum of comfort levels, though, so while this may be an accurate representation for some, it may not be for all. i mean no harm. everyone is valid. different strokes for different folks. or no strokes for some, i guess. thats the whole point of this. anyway. (i'm sorry)

For all intents and purposes, Johnny and Taeyong have seen the worst of each other. 

Living together for so long, training together, learning and growing—Johnny’s sure that Taeyong has seen even the dredges of him, the bits leftover after all the rest are taken and used. 

That’s why, when Taeyong kisses Johnny after the concert in Fukuoka, sweat still shining along his brow, the greatest emotion that Johnny feels in the moment is confusion. 

“W-What are you doing?” Johnny asks, hands on Taeyong’s shoulders. 

“Kissing you,” Taeyong says, as if it’s obvious, and yeah, Johnny supposes it is. 

It hits him that his lips are wet, taste vaguely like the lip oil the makeup artists always use on Taeyong. They stand there in silence for too long, and Johnny’s stomach starts to twist uncomfortably. 

“Do you not want me to kiss you?” Taeyong asks, and his head hitches to the side, cute in his question. 

And to be honest, Johnny’s never really thought about it before. Taeyong has been his friend for so long, _best_ friend Johnny would even say, and he’s just—never really thought about it before. He thinks about a lot of stuff, but never this. 

Maybe, he thinks, staring down at Taeyong’s hopeful face, his dewy skin, and his sparkling eyes, maybe it’s high time to start.  
  


♠

It goes forgotten.

Not to Johnny, of course. To Johnny, the kiss is a revelation. 

He starts to notice the way he acts around Taeyong, a little too proud, a little too much showing off. Clingy when he can afford to be. Was he showing signs that he didn’t even know he was showing? Was he leading Taeyong on? Can a thing such as that even be possible? Because Johnny realizes, staring at Taeyong play Smash with Hyuck, _oh, duh_. He likes Taeyong. And he probably always did. 

But Taeyong plays it cool. He gives Johnny exactly as much space as normal, doesn’t crowd unless Johnny crowds first. He doesn’t distance himself any more than usual, and that’s why Johnny feels the _lack_ of confrontation boiling in his stomach. When will it come? Will Taeyong hate him? Will he—will he want to be just friends? Did Johnny wait too long? Did he miss his chance? 

It could be a mark of the depth of their friendship, but Taeyong always seems to know when Johnny needs to talk, just another bit of his magic. Johnny is resting in bed, tucked under his blanket, and Taeyong is on the opposite side of the room, folding laundry. 

“Hey,” Taeyong says suddenly, pausing his folding of a pair of gym shorts, like the words just sprung to him from the ether. “Have you thought about it?” 

Johnny doesn’t want to let his shock show, but Doyoung always says he shows everything on his face, so there’s no point in trying to hide it. “Thought about what?” he asks, even though, God, nothing’s ever been so obvious. 

“About whether or not you want me to kiss you,” Taeyong says plainly. 

And how can someone be so fucking calm about something so earth-shattering, something so beautiful and terrifying. 

“Yes,” he answers, and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, in his neck. 

Taeyong doesn’t show anything, not even a subtle curve of his mouth. He reaches into his laundry basket, grabs a pair of socks. And, sorry, but...who’s able to match socks like that? Taeyong is a wizard, a pretty, talented wizard whose magic specializes in sock-matching, stage presence, video games, showmanship, and being so fucking pretty that Johnny probably should have realized how he felt sooner. 

He is totally screwed. 

“ _Yes, you’ve thought about it_ or _yes, you want me to kiss you_?” Taeyong asks. 

“B-both,” Johnny says, and he looks at Taeyong, sees the pleased look bloom on his face like the cherry blossoms. 

“Good,” Taeyong says, voice as soft as it goes, and then, impossibly softer, “me too.” 

Taeyong finishes up his laundry in quiet, and Johnny is tense all over as he waits for a response. But it’s not the kind of anxious tenseness that he’s felt before—it’s a pleasant, happy sort that makes him feel like...like it’s something worth waiting for. 

He puts his clothes away diligently before he turns on Johnny. Johnny’s body responds before his mind can—is Taeyong going to come to him now? Is he going to kiss Johnny again? Should Johnny get up and kiss him? What’s—what’s the protocol? It’s been so long, he barely knows what to do with himself besides lie there, thrumming with anticipation. 

“Remember to shut your light off,” Taeyong says with a smile, gesturing to the lamp on Johnny’s bedside table. He tucks himself into bed, cuddles up in his blankets, and closes his eyes. “Night, Johnny.” 

Johnny can barely breathe, but he still manages to get out a quiet “good night” before he sits up and plunges them both into darkness.  
  


♠

Johnny would call himself an optimistic person, generally. He looks on the bright side, and on the whole, he’s usually in a good mood. The week after his confession to Taeyong, though? It’s something else.

He feels like he’s floating through most of his days, completely unable to be brought down. He flubs choreo in a performance, and he still feels like he’s doing better than he ever has before. There’s something about a newly awakened affection that makes you feel like the world has no troubles, or at the very least, like none of them can touch you. 

That’s until he spends more than a moment thinking about a deeper-than-surface level relationship, not just _friendship_ with Taeyong. 

Even though Jaehyun might tell people otherwise, Johnny’s not an idiot. He knows what people expect getting into a relationship, especially at their age. Romance doesn’t come without sex, and it’s just...he’s never been interested in that part of it, so as a whole, dating never seemed like a viable option for him. Maybe that’s why he never even considered his feelings towards Taeyong, so clear with even just a bit of thought. 

It sets nerves curling uncomfortably in his stomach, Taeyong wanting something Johnny couldn’t give him.

Johnny’s always hated letting people down. 

“Are you okay?” Taeyong asks, bumping his hip against Johnny’s. 

They’re finally home, and there’s a comfort here that is undeniable. He’s just finished washing his face at the bathroom sink, and seeing Taeyong, his goofy headband with the cat ears pushing his hair out of his face, skin clear and soft...it just makes Johnny crazy. 

“I’m asexual,” Johnny confesses, water still dripping from his cheeks. 

It tumbles out of him, and even if he could take the words back, keep them caught between his cupped hands, he doesn’t think he’d want to. He wants to get out of this before he’s too deep, before he can’t stop the slip, before he’s skidding downhill and into something that he can’t come back from. 

Taeyong’s face registers minimal shock, just a raise of a carefully shaped eyebrow before it drops back. 

“Oh,” he says. “Congratulations.” 

“T-Thank you?” 

Taeyong smiles widely, opens his arms, and Johnny goes to him, wrapping Taeyong up in an embrace, the kind they’ve shared plenty of times. Never with that particular piece of knowledge being so common. Johnny lowers his chin onto the top of Taeyong’s head, and he can smell Taeyong’s shampoo, fruity like strawberries. Taeyong buries his face into Johnny’s chest, and it goes straight to Johnny’s heart, a little jolt of joy. 

“Have you ever told anyone before?” he asks, voice muffled. 

“No,” Johnny says, quick to qualify. “I mean, I’ve alluded to it, sort of, but never—”

“Never said the words.” 

“Right.” 

Taeyong pulls back a bit out of the hug, eyes sparkling like always. “Thanks for telling me.” He squeezes Johnny to him, arms tight around the small of Johnny’s back. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Johnny says. “No problem.” 

“I love you, you know.” 

Something leaps into Johnny’s throat, something he can’t speak around, and tears come to his eyes. He barely holds them back, looks up, blinks rapidly until he can feel them subside. He looks back down at Taeyong, sees the way he looks up at him. Maybe...maybe he was wrong. Maybe this could be something. 

“I love you too,” he says, because this is new territory, but at least he knows that to be true.  
  


♠

If there’s something Taeyong’s good at, it’s everything, but if there’s a skill that Johnny notices above all else, it’s the way Taeyong talks to Johnny. Their conversations are illuminating, to say the least, and Johnny isn’t sure if it means they’re together or what, but he likes the little talks all the same. He discovers that he really likes having someone to share with. Weight lifting off him, weight he’s carried for so long that he didn’t even realize how much it was tiring him out.

When they have time, everything moving around them at lightspeed, they sit, they put on a drama that they end up ignoring, and they talk. 

“Was it like a...was it like knowing you were gay?” Taeyong asks, crunching through a shrimp chip. “Or did you realize later?” 

“Later,” Johnny says. “I mean, you don’t really...you’re a kid, you know—” 

“Yeah, of course,” Taeyong says with a smile. “Sorry, dumb question.” 

“It’s not dumb,” Johnny says, and he bumps his shoulder into Taeyong’s. “I just...I remember the first time I sort of, like, had a guy I liked, as soon as he was, you know, talking about other shit besides kissing, it was like a moment of clarity. Sort of like, I dunno, it’s hard to think of a comparison, but like...knowing you’re not gonna like the taste of a food based on the smell.”

“Right, sex smells,” Taeyong nods. 

“Shut up,” Johnny laughs, and he scoots a little closer to Taeyong, just to feel the weight and warmth of him. 

They’re quiet for a bit, companionable the way all silence is between them, before Taeyong speaks again. 

“So, you’re not into any of it?” Taeyong asks, and he tilts his head, puppy-cute. “Hands or…or anything? I mean, I read about it, and it said—”

“Yeah, some people do still...have sex or whatever,” Johnny says. 

“But you don’t,” Taeyong says. 

“Not...not really,” Johnny says, and he bites down on an apology. He has nothing to apologize for, after all. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, and it’s not like I forced myself or anything because I wanted to make sure, but— it’s not really my thing, I guess.” 

“Okay, cool,” Taeyong says, and there’s more quiet to follow, but Johnny has to poke and prod at it. 

“And that’s...that’s cool with you?” 

Taeyong shoots him a disbelieving look. “What, like I give a shit about stuff like that?” He turns, and he gets up on his knees on the couch, evens the playing field between them, stares right into Johnny’s eyes, and God, he’s beautiful. “You don’t know me very well, do you?” He leans in, and Johnny shuts his eyes, expects to share only his second kiss with Taeyong, and he’s prepared this time, but—but Taeyong only nuzzles his nose against Johnny’s. Johnny opens his eyes, sees a smile on Taeyong’s face. “I like you, idiot.” 

“Y-Yeah, I...I like you too,” Johnny says. 

“Good,” Taeyong says, and he sits back down, leans his head against Johnny’s shoulder, something final to it.  
  


♠

They take things slowly. Almost too slowly. Johnny’s head runs wild sometimes, and throughout the summer, the long, brutal summer of touring and hotel rooms and fast food and sweat, they keep a respectable distance.

Johnny keeps wanting to...to _do_ something, do anything, but he’s always a bit too nervous. That’s not to say that there isn’t affection between them. Taeyong holds his hand when they’re at home, and now, Johnny’s confident enough to reach out on his own. They’re always next to each other when they can help it, they always talk, they always share with each other, but there’s something missing. 

Johnny corners Taeyong one night before bed, and Taeyong’s breath smells like mint as he looks up at Johnny. 

“Hi,” Taeyong says, and he turns his head side to side to look at Johnny’s hands boxing him in against the wall. “I guess you were paying attention to those dramas after all.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Okay.” 

“Why aren’t we kissing?” Johnny asks, and he cringes internally a bit at how childish he sounds. 

“Oh,” Taeyong says. “Well, I’ve never done this sort of thing before, and I wasn’t sure if you liked kissing, so I just wanted to go sl—” 

Johnny leans in, kisses Taeyong on the mouth quickly before he can say anything else, and that’s...well, that’s _that_ , Johnny thinks. 

“Okay,” Taeyong says happily. “If you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.” 

He leans back in, and they share their first _proper_ kiss, by Johnny’s estimation. He opens his mouth against Taeyong’s slowly, licks along the seam of his lips, and when Taeyong yields to him, he hums. He kisses Taeyong until his mouth starts to tingle, until Taeyong’s breathing is labored, and he pulls back, satisfied. 

“Uh, wow,” Taeyong smiles. “So…” 

“So,” Johnny says. “I like kissing. And we don’t have to go that slow.”  
  


♠

They officially start dating in October, with the titles and everything, and the tempered chill brings them together in the warm light of coffee shops. It’s not like they can do much publicly, but just being with Taeyong is enough.

When they’re home at the dorms, or they’re able to secure the same hotel room, Johnny will peel back his covers and let Taeyong sneak into his bed, and they cuddle against each other. It’s better than holding any stuffed animal, and that’s saying something coming from Johnny. Taeyong is warm, soft, and he holds Johnny back, chaste kisses along his neck, soft hands at Johnny’s waist. 

They trade places, and Johnny is loathe to admit it, but his favorite is when Taeyong is cradled behind him, his knees tucked against the backs of Johnny’s, arms wrapped around Johnny’s stomach. It probably makes no sense, probably looks _ridiculous_ now that he’s thinking of it, but being the little spoon fills him with an overwhelming and indescribable sense of rightness. Of completeness. He nuzzles into the blanket, hums out his happiness.

“Is that good?” Taeyong asks, and the words shiver through Johnny’s body, spoken against his skin. 

“Yeah,” Johnny breathes. “Thank you.” 

Taeyong presses a kiss along the back of Johnny’s neck, right along Johnny’s hairline. “No problem.” He squeezes his arms tighter around Johnny. Sighs. “Love you.” 

“Love you,” Johnny whispers back. 

It’s good. So good. Better than Johnny ever fuckin’ dreamed. Taeyong is perfect, so respectful, so kind, always making sure Johnny’s comfortable and happy, always trying to be better, like such a thing is even possible.  
  


♠

Dates are few and far between with their schedules, but they make time for each other. It just so happens that the dates aren’t exactly normal fare.

“Come on,” Taeyong says, and he spreads the annoyingly perfect checkered blanket along the floor. 

The cold white light of December streams through the window, first snows falling, and Taeyong looks even more handsome than usual because he is so happy, and God, if that happiness isn’t infectious, then Johnny doesn’t know what is. 

“This is really dumb,” Johnny says with a bright smile. “I sort of—”

“Love it, right?” Taeyong says. “Just because it’s too cold out…” 

“And we’re _much_ too famous,” Johnny grins. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have a picnic.” 

“Oh my god,” Taeyong says, and he pulls Johnny down to the floor by the hand. “Sit. Shut up. You’re so much cuter when you aren’t talking.” 

Johnny throws his head back, laughs. Taeyong says that a lot, but he never stops talking to Johnny. Always asks him for more and more. What a nice feeling that is. It’s nice having someone who makes you feel like you aren’t too much. Like every part of you is necessary and good. 

Taeyong made them dinner, and they eat cross-legged on the bedroom floor, little flameless candles lit all around them. It’s dorky, but Johnny likes that sort of stuff, and Taeyong knows it. Every day, it feels more and more like Taeyong molds himself to be more of what Johnny wants, and it’s—it’s nice to feel chased. To feel worth that chase. Worthy of keeping and being kept.  
  


♠

Things get around. The rest of the members have learned to knock.

“John, where’s m—oh my _god_!” 

They spring apart from each other so violently that Johnny actually has to grab the fabric of Taeyong’s shirt to keep him from falling off the bed. 

It’s not like they were doing anything really. It’s just nice to kiss lying down, far more comfortable that way. And sometimes Taeyong will lay his body overtop of Johnny’s, and it’s like having a weighted blanket, the comfort of someone’s warmth over you. 

“Hey, Mark,” Johnny says, and he rubs at his jaw a little. They were going at it for sort of a long time. “What’s up?” 

“I wanted my fucking _hat back_ ,” Mark shrieks. “But now all’s I want is _eye bleach_!” 

“It’s nice to see you, Mark,” Taeyong says. 

Mark immediately slaps a hand over his face. 

“Ew, ew, ew, oh my god, how am I going to move on from this? I am emotionally scarred,” Mark says, shielding his eyes. “It’s like watching my fucking _parents_ make out.” 

“Does someone need to explain to you how you got here?” Johnny says. “You see, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—” 

“If you say another word, I’m gonna sink into the molten hot core of the Earth! This has gone far enough!” Mark screeches. “Stop kissing! Stop touching each other! Stop calling each other _baby_!” 

Mark slowly backs out of the room, bumping into the wall as he goes, and Johnny and Taeyong erupt into a fit of giggles. 

“Shut up!” Mark says, turning and running back to his room, voice echoing as he moves through the halls. “I _hate_ you guys.” 

Taeyong leans in, kisses Johnny on the lips, closed-mouth and sweet. 

“It’s fun torturing him, huh?” Taeyong says, and Johnny can’t help but agree.  
  


♠

He’s a very thoughtful individual, so now, whenever they plan on making out for an extended period of time, like it’s a thing to do, Johnny locks the door.

They get creative in the ways that they do it, different positions for longer sessions, and Johnny like, realizes how much he _loves_ kissing Taeyong. He’s so fucking cute, so sweet, and he makes these perfect little noises of content that make Johnny feel like...he doesn’t know. Make him feel like maybe he doesn’t _need_ to have sex with someone to be enough for them. At the very least, doesn’t need it to be enough for Taeyong. 

Johnny’s back is against the wall, and he’s sitting across his bed perpendicular so that Taeyong has room to straddle his lap. It’s probably Johnny’s favorite way to kiss, because he likes being able to settle into it, put his hands on Taeyong’s waist. Sometimes, he even sits up off the wall, has Taeyong wrap his legs around Johnny so they’re in a big mess of a hug. It feels like they can’t possibly be closer, like their hearts are connected by a little red rope. 

Johnny licks into Taeyong’s mouth, lets his tongue play along Taeyong’s, and he hums, happy when Taeyong hums back. He swallows it, deeply satisfied, and he runs his hands up and down Taeyong’s back, pulls him in by the hips, just a little closer. 

“Oh,” Taeyong says suddenly, and he backs away, pulls back. “Y-You—”

“I?” Johnny smiles. 

“Baby,” he says, and he looks down, and holy shit, that hasn’t happened in a while, certainly never when they were in the midst of...of anything. “Should I—”

It’s not like Johnny’s never gotten hard before, never jerked off before, because he has, but it’s just...not like he needs it? Or even really _wants_ it? It’s not disgusting to him, but it feels...strange. Not quite right. And they’ve talked about it, they’ve discussed it, they both know it’s not the same for everyone, but this is how it is for Johnny, and...and he has no idea where to go from here. 

“No, uh,” Johnny says, “it’s fine. It’ll go away.” 

“R-Right,” Taeyong says. “Okay.” 

“Should we, like, I dunno,” Johnny says, and he runs a hand through his hair, licking at his lips, “watch a movie or something?” 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll get it,” Taeyong says, and he leaps off the bed, runs to the other side of the room and grabs his laptop, starts to queue up something that they started one night, and by the time Taeyong returns, Johnny is soft again.  
  


♠

After the initial incident, Johnny doesn’t really think about it, and that, he realizes, is kind of a recurring theme in his life. He vacillates between not thinking at all and vastly overthinking, and to be honest, he really wishes that he could find some happy medium between the two.

Instead, however, he doesn’t give it any more thought, and seemingly, it disappears. They do all the same stuff they’ve always done, and they don’t talk about it. That’s not normal for Taeyong, who likes to talk about everything, so Johnny assumes that he thinks of it about as little as Johnny does. 

Sometimes, Taeyong acts a bit strangely, shying away from Johnny when they’re kissing or cuddling, but Johnny doesn’t mind. Everyone needs space once in a while, and that’s not anything he needs to be told: respect for personal space is one of his favorite things about his relationship with Taeyong. 

Whenever Taeyong gives off those very obvious signals, Johnny backs off. It’s never a long time before he’s back in Johnny’s arms, curling up against him like a kitten, so Johnny doesn’t think they need any conversation beyond that.  
  


♠

He missed a shoot because of a schedule that couldn’t be moved, so he gets up stupid early one morning, heads to the make-up by himself. He gets a little nervous, doing shit by himself when he’s so used to having the other guys around him. He’s a big boy, though. He can handle it.

And all goes well. He spies over the photographer’s shoulder at the very end, and he likes what she managed to get out of him: a little mysterious, a little sexy. He likes that sort of look, likes showing it even if he doesn’t really, you know, _feel_ it. 

Day has only just broken when he goes back to the dorms, mask on and brim of his hat pulled low. He walks up, unloads all his shit in the doorway, excited to tell Taeyong the good news. Taeyong told him everything would be cool, but sometimes, _most times_ , anxieties are just too irrational to be reasoned with. 

He smiles, turning the handle to the bedroom door quickly, and suddenly, there is a flurry of movement. Taeyong sits straight up, his hands coming out from beneath his blankets. His cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, his mouth is wet, and Johnny— 

_Oh my god,_ he thinks. _How can I escape as quickly as possible? Is there any way to launch a human male to Mars powered by his own embarrassment and self-loathing?_

“I’m sorry,” Johnny says hurriedly, throwing up his hands as he backs away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Taeyong says. He clutches the blankets to him. “ _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t think you’d be back so early, I’m sorr—” 

“Why are you sorry?” Johnny says. “You’re allowed to masturbate. Everyone masturbates.” 

He grimaces as he turns from the room. It didn’t come out the way he wanted it to, so when he shuts the door on Taeyong calling his name, he decides it’s best not to answer. 

It’s not like Johnny is shocked or anything. He figured as much. Taeyong is twenty-three, and he’s healthy, beautiful. Near perfect, Johnny would say. About as close to perfect as a person could get. 

Obviously, he masturbates. He’s not the weird one in the equation. Johnny was underneath him just a couple weeks before, and now— 

He puts it all together like that, very easily. He’s very smart. Taeyong’s been trying to make him comfortable. Not...not show everything. Not confront him with that knowledge.

He leaves the dorms as quickly as he can, and he stays out the whole day, trying to avoid the inevitable conversation. Because the conversation _is_ inevitable, and he just—he can’t handle it in that moment. So he treats himself to coffee and a sugary breakfast, to shopping, to ice cream in the mall, eating it sadly on a bench like a fucking idiot. He goes to a movie while he’s there, and does his level best not to think about what happens when he gets home. He can’t seem to shake the overwhelming sadness, the little cloud of grey on his heart. He’s...he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know at all. 

Johnny flumps into bed later, thanking God or whoever that the room is empty. Taeyong gives him space, and Johnny’s grateful for that despite the fact that, the more he thinks about it, the worse he feels.  
  


♠

He’s lucky for a packed schedule for preparations, and they don’t have a lot of time for silly personal shit. They see each other all the time, but the moments for conversation are thin. Johnny’s thankful. He doesn’t want to have the conversation he knows he has to have.

“Hey,” Taeyong says, but Johnny doesn’t turn, just looks down, pretends like Taeyong’s talking to Doyoung instead. 

“Hey,” Doyoung plays along. 

“Hey,” Taeyong says to Doyoung politely before, “Hey, Johnny.” 

“Hi,” Johnny says, but he stays facing the mirror and very deliberately does not look into Taeyong’s eyes the way he could.

His eyes are always too dangerous. His eyes are the reason Johnny’s in this predicament to begin with. He distinctly remembers being quite happy as a single man. 

“Could we...could we maybe talk?” Taeyong asks. 

“He’s in the middle of vocal lessons. I’ve taken it upon myself to improve his singing,” Doyoung says. “Surely, you understand that this is for the good of the group.” 

“Uh, I guess, but you’re...you’re giving him a vocal lesson during...during a water break?” Taeyong asks. 

“Yes,” Doyoung says, tilting his nose into the air. “He doesn’t have much time, as I’m sure you’re aware.” 

“Alright.” Johnny makes the singular mistake of doing what he told himself he wasn’t going to do: making eye contact with him, seeing the warmth in his gaze. It’s fucking _lethal_. “Let me know when you have a minute, okay? I love you.” 

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “Love you too.” 

Taeyong gives him a little sad smile before he turns, walks off. 

“This,” Doyoung whispers, “cannot continue.” 

“Mind your business,” Johnny says. 

 

“This is most certainly my business as you’ve enlisted me for _criminal purposes_ ,” he says lowly, rapidly losing his volume control. “I’m an _accomplice_.” 

“Oh yeah?” Johnny says. “And what law are we breaking?” 

“ _You shall not make Lee Taeyong sad_ ,” Doyoung says, rolling his eyes. “I swear to God, it’s like you know nothing about our constitution.”  
  


♠

“Johnny?”

Taeyong’s voice is small in the dark of night, but Johnny hasn’t been able to fall asleep. Not with everything weighing down on him. Not with….with this thing between them. 

“I’m asleep,” Johnny says. 

He can practically hear Taeyong’s eyeroll. “Can I come over?” 

Johnny’s bed feels so empty without Taeyong in it now, and fuck, is he really so dependent on Taeyong now that he needs his bed warmed by him just to fall asleep? He’s too old for this, he’s too— 

_Stop_ , he tells himself. _Just stop._

“Yeah,” Johnny says softly. 

All Johnny hears is the rustling of sheets, and then all he feels is a hand at his shoulder. He turns, and he can barely make out Taeyong’s face in the darkness. Johnny holds the blanket up, backs up against the wall to make room for Taeyong to lie down against him. 

Taeyong is cautious the way he normally isn’t, usually stealing into Johnny’s space like he owns it, and the difference makes Johnny feel sick. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong says. 

“Don’t apologize,” Johnny says. 

“I don’t want...I mean, I’m not ashamed of it, and I don’t want to feel like I’m hiding it, but obviously this was not an ideal way for us to broach the conversation.” 

“Y-Yeah.” 

“I don’t want this to affect us. It...I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. And I...I knew it would make you uncomfortable,” Taeyong says, and he lays a gentle hand on Johnny’s face. “But please know that...I mean, you _know_ I love you. You know I love you just the way you are.” 

And Taeyong says all the right words, does everything correctly, but Johnny still hears what sits underneath: _you aren’t enough. You won’t ever be enough._

“Yeah,” Johnny says with a sad smile. “I know.” 

Taeyong smiles, and Johnny can make that out, at least. He cuddles in close, asks “is this okay?” and Johnny feels like they’ve taken a hundred steps back, back to square one. 

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “Yeah, of course.” 

Taeyong wraps his arms around Johnny’s body, and the heat and weight of him is comforting. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

Johnny doesn’t answer him, or if he does, it’s by leaning in, licking along Taeyong’s lips and wishing that everything could go back to how it was, knowing it can’t.  
  


♠

Blocking is his least favorite part of music video shit, because often times, it takes the longest and often times, he’s not even in the shot. So it’s a lot of sitting around, doing absolutely nothing, which means people come and get in his business.

“I told you, it’s my business too,” Doyoung says. “Respect your elders.” 

“I’m older than you?” 

“That’s a technicality, and you know it,” Doyoung says. “I’m as old as time itself.” 

“Nothing you say makes any sense.”

“True. Can I sit?” 

Johnny gestures next to him, and Doyoung sits, slings an arm over his neck. He’s wearing this horrible starchy suit jacket, one that _should_ inhibit movement, but here Johnny is, engaged in physical affection with him anyway. 

“You and Yongie make up?” he asks. 

They watch as Taeyong and Mark stand back to back, gently being fixed until they’ve hit their spot. The lighting is adjusted, and then they start rolling. And Taeyong is in his fucking element. Just perfect. Absolutely perfect. His stomach hurts at the thought. 

“Sort of,” Johnny says. 

 

“What’s sort of?” Doyoung says. “This is horseshoes. This is hand-grenades. There’s no _almost_ when you’re in a relationship with Taeyong.” 

Johnny sighs. Doyoung is right, as per usual. 

“It’s still weird,” he says. 

“Is that because you’re making it weird?” And yeah, of course it is. Johnny always knew it was all on him. “Don’t make that face, hyung.” 

“I’m not making a face,” Johnny says, and he scoots away, puts about a meter of space between them. 

Doyoung doesn’t say anything for a while, and Johnny’s happy because he needs the quiet. It’s only much later that he says what he’s got in his head, and who knows how long it’s been there? 

“I’m your friend,” Doyoung says. “So I just wanted to say this: like, I don’t know the ins and outs of it, but he really loves you. And you gotta stop this shit before it’s too late. And like, whatever it is, it’s not big enough to be a make or break thing. Okay? Trust me.” 

Johnny does, trusts him wholly. Sort of. Almost.  
  


♠

It goes on like that for a while. They’re working on preparations for the new mini, and it’s good that they have something to do because if they didn’t, Johnny thinks he might die from all the awkwardness between them.

Because Johnny has absolutely no idea what to do anymore. He knows Doyoung is right. He can’t keep this up, but that doesn’t mean he has any good ideas on how to proceed. Which means he calls the brains of the operation, and God almighty, isn’t that a scary idea?

Jaehyun walks into the room, sits down on Johnny’s bed. Hard. Like he means business. 

“Sit,” Jaehyun says, and Johnny sits next to him. “Tell me everything.” 

“Like from the very beginning?” 

“You can skip all the years where you were shitting your pants regularly,” Jaehyun says. 

“You’re extremely helpful.” 

“ _And_ I’m handsome,” Jaehyun says, gesturing to himself. “Total package.” 

But he spills his guts, tells Jaehyun that he’s ace, that he’s known for a while, that he and Taeyong worked it out, sort of, almost, then had it all fall apart, that he doesn’t know what to do, that he feels like he _never_ knows what to do when it comes to Taeyong. 

“Boiling it down to, like, the absolute bare minimum...you got all weird because he’s jacking it, and that’s not cool with you?” 

“No,” Johnny says. “It’s cool with me, it’s just…” 

“It’s just that it’s totally fucking you up inside,” Jaehyun says. 

“It’s about more than that,” Johnny argues. 

“Explain.” 

“He keeps making all these...concessions for me. Shit that like, he wouldn’t have to do in normal circumstances, you know? So, it’s just like, it makes me feel like I owe him something. Like I’m not deserving of this. Like we’re on unequal footing, and I’m fucking everything up.”

Jaehyun studies Johnny’s face for several moments, and Johnny lowers his eyes, picks at the dry skin by his thumb. 

“Yo, you’re like super insecure,” Jaehyun says, marveling like he’s just discovered a new part of himself to admire. “That’s wild.” 

“Yeah, I get it. Insecurity, something you would know nothing about.” 

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Beautiful, talented, and as multifaceted as a diamond or no, we all get insecure.” Johnny punches him in the shoulder. “Ow. Look, I just mean, like, don’t let the insecurity rule your life, you know? You deserve better than that. _You_ decide where to go with him, not your little bitchass brain.” 

It all clicks into place. It’s all so crystal clear. How didn’t he see this from the very beginning? 

“You’re right,” Johnny says, and he slaps his hands on his thighs. “I’ve gotta break up with him.” 

“Wait, what?” Jaehyun screeches. “No!” 

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “It’s the only way. Like, logically.” 

“ _Logically_ , there are like, thousands of different ways.” 

But he’s made up his mind. There’s only one way. 

“No, see, like, somewhere down the line,” Johnny starts, “he’s gonna get bored. And he’s gonna feel bad about that, right? Because no one wants to feel like the asshole who just wants someone for sex. But he’s a human, right? He’s normal. It’s not bad. He’s not doing anything wrong.” 

“John—” 

“So, if I break up with him now,” Johnny continues, “I’ll be doing him a favor. He won’t ever have to feel like that.” 

“And this has nothing to do with you needing to protect yourself,” Jaehyun says. “From future hurt? Because you think he’s gonna change his mind later on down the line, and it would break your heart if that happened?” 

Johnny swallows over a fucking sword. 

“No,” he says. “Why would you think that?” 

Jaehyun flops onto the bed face first, and he grabs his pillow only to unleash a mighty scream into it for a solid thirty seconds. His lung capacity has really improved over the years. After he’s finished screaming, he sits up with a smile. 

“God, you got the way wrong idea from this conversation, bud,” Jaehyun says. 

“Right.” 

“No, I’m serious, like, _way_ wrong,” Jaehyun says with a pat to the shoulder. He walks from the room. And Johnny hears him shout “Doyoungie, he needs you!” 

Johnny closes his eyes, a little upset, but finally, he feels like he has a plan. And that’s all.  
  


♠

He tells himself he’ll do it on a Friday because everything is easier over the weekend. Taeyong comes home, boxes of healthy food in tow.

“Hey,” Johnny says. “Welcome home.” 

Taeyong smiles brightly, that same charming smile that makes Johnny wish he could change himself, fix himself, be less of a fucking freak. But he can’t. He’s tried. All he can manage to make himself be is exactly who he is to start with.

Taeyong launches into Johnny’s arms, aiming the smile at Johnny. “Hi. Are you hungry?” 

“Not really,” Johnny says. “But, um, I was just wondering if I could talk to you.” 

The light in Taeyong’s eyes dims, and he angles himself back, squinting his eyes a bit as if trying to suss out Johnny’s feelings just from particles in the air. 

“Okay,” he says finally. “Let me just put this down really fast.” 

Taeyong joins him on the couch after, and Johnny doesn’t know how to start, especially not with Taeyong looking at him so earnestly. 

“You wanted to talk?” Taeyong finally prompts. 

“Y-Yeah,” Johnny says. “I think—” 

And he wants Taeyong to interrupt him, wants him to say anything to stop him, but Taeyong’s too smart, too good. Always lets Johnny do exactly as he wants, even when what Johnny does isn’t exactly what he wants. 

“I think we should break up.” 

He stares at his hands. Waits for Taeyong to say something. Anything. 

But he doesn’t. 

Johnny chances a look up at him, and he looks so fucking hurt that it puts a hundred, a thousand more cracks into Johnny’s already broken heart, spidering out like a sheet of glass. 

“Why?” Taeyong asks, and his eyes mist over, and God, Johnny feels like crying himself. 

“We’re not right for each other.” 

“No. Tell me what you really mean.”

“I mean it,” Johnny says. 

“Please,” Taeyong says. “Please. Just explain it to me, baby.” 

Johnny’s so weak to him, so stupid and weak.

“I can’t give you what you need,” Johnny says. “I’m…I’m not right for you. I’ll never be—I don’t know, I don’t _know_ , I’m just never gonna be the person who is supposed to get _you_ , you know?” 

Taeyong stares at him, eyes wide, and Johnny can’t stop. 

“I’m so fucking...I’m just not enough, alright?” he says. “I can’t be. No matter how hard I try, it’s not gonna...it’s not enough.” 

“Baby, stop,” Taeyong says. 

“And so, like,” Johnny continues, blustering forward because he knows he can’t stop now, can’t lose steam, “if you need more than...than what I’m capable of giving you, I just wanted you to know—”

“What?” 

Embarrassingly enough, Johnny feels himself close to crying, the tears just sitting there in his eyes, waiting for the dam to break. But he holds them back as best he can, twists his face horribly just so that he can keep one little shred of his dignity in this mess. 

“I wanted to you to know,” Johnny chokes out, “that I’ll be happy for you. And that I’ll support you. In whatever you decided to do. Whoever you decide to love. No hard feelings.” 

“This doesn’t sound like breaking up,” Taeyong says. “It sounds like you’re trying to convince me to stay with you.” 

Johnny doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say, because Taeyong’s right. In his heart of hearts, in the deepest, worst parts of him, he just wants someone to love him. Worst parts and all. 

Taeyong suddenly closes the gap between them, takes Johnny’s sweatshirt in his hands as he pulls them close together, their bodies forming that familiar, comforting line. Still, Johnny gasps, a wet sob falling from his mouth when Taeyong looks into his eyes, fierce and beautiful and terrifying. There is so much emotion there, and Johnny doesn’t think he has room for it, can’t spare the space. 

“Would you?” Taeyong asks. “Would you really be happy for me?” 

Johnny wants to scream his answer, wants to tell him _no. The worst part about me is that I’m selfish, and I want you for myself. Always._. 

“Yes,” Johnny lies. 

Taeyong stares down at his hands, clutching Johnny by the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Don’t lie to me.” He looks up, up through his eyelashes. “You said you’d never lie.” 

Johnny squeezes his eyes shut, and a tear falls from the corner. He feels stupid, and he has a quick thought that he should wipe it away before Taeyong sees it, but… 

“Please don’t cry, babe,” Taeyong says, and his voice is soft like cotton, the comfort of it cradling him while Taeyong wipes the tear away for him. He stands up on his tiptoes, and Johnny lets instinct guide him: he closes the gap between them, leaning down to kiss Taeyong. “That’s better, huh?” 

Taeyong bounces on his toes as he dresses himself in a dopey grin, the kind that always makes Johnny laugh, and that’s what he does—he sputters out a wet giggle, and he puts his hands on either side of Taeyong’s neck, thumbs cupping his jaw. 

“Tell me the truth, okay?” He turns into Johnny’s touch, closes his eyes. “I just want you to be honest with me. Do you want to break up with me? Like if that’s really what you want, then I can’t change your mind, but if you don’t...if you don’t wanna break up, tell me. Because I don’t want to break up with you. I wanna stay together.” 

“I don’t wanna break up,” Johnny says. 

Taeyong bites his lip, smiles as he opens his eyes. “I’m really glad you said that.” He reaches up, covers Johnny’s hands with his own. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

Johnny shifts from foot to foot, still—still unsettled. About to fall out of his own skin. 

“You want me to order something to eat?” Taeyong asks. 

“You brought food,” Johnny says. 

“This calls for grease,” Taeyong says. “Should I call for pizza?” 

Johnny grimaces. 

“Chicken,” Taeyong rectifies with a smile. “I’ll go order.”  
  


♠

They sit on the floor, cross-legged, and the box is between them, the smell divine. Taeyong ran to the corner store and got Johnny the specific kind of beer he likes, and it loosens him up a little as they eat.

“I didn’t realize how much it was eating at you,” Taeyong says. “If I’d known...I don’t know, I guess I would have tried more to help.” 

“It’s not your fault. You...I mean, I was avoiding you. What more could you have done?” Johnny says. “And besides, you can’t just be expected to read someone’s mind. Even though, like, weirdly, you’ve always been able to do that before.” 

“Well, it’s not hard to know when you wanna talk,” Taeyong smiles, and he licks his finger. “You always leave your lamp on before bed.” 

“What?” 

“When you wanna talk to me about something, you always go to bed, look like you’re about to fall asleep, but...you never shut the lights out.” 

Taeyong is better than he knows, and Johnny sits up on his knees, takes Taeyong’s face in his hands and shares a disgusting kiss. 

“Ew,” Taeyong smiles. “I gotta go wash my face.” 

“Yeah, imagine if you got a single blemish,” Johnny says, running his thumb along Taeyong’s bottom lip before kissing it quickly. “Seoul might collapse around us.” 

“Skincare is a matter of national security,” he says, and he gets up onto his knees to match Johnny, kisses him lushly, and Johnny’s seen enough teen rom-coms from the 80s to know that this is when the music swells, when the shot closes in, when everything settles into soft focus. 

When the story ends.  
  


♠

After their next rehearsal, Taeyong and Johnny walk into the living room and all the lights are off. The annoying pieces of shit.

“Wait, this isn’t a surprise party,” Mark mutters. 

The lights flick on suddenly. And the clapping and whooping and screeching erupts. 

“We’re so happy you’re back together!” Taeil cheers, pushing the cake with the candle forward. “Congratulations!” 

“We were never apart!” Taeyong says before turning to Johnny. “Tell them we were never apart.” 

“We were never apart.” 

“Nonsense,” Doyoung says. “A happy reunion is cause for celebration.” 

Taeyong eyes the cake carefully. “Wait a second, who made this?” 

“Some ahjumma in a shop somewhere,” Jaehyun says. “Now, let’s eat. I’m hungry.” 

“You ate forty minutes ago,” Johnny says. 

 

“And?” Jaehyun says, leaning forward to blow out the candle himself before grabbing the knife. “Being a supportive friend takes a lot out of you.”  
  


♠

He’s been trying to get better at cooking. Taeyong, he figures, is the perfect teacher.

“I’m honored, baby,” Taeyong says. He tilts his head to the side happily, stands on his tip-toes. Johnny lowers himself down, kisses Taeyong. And then again. And again. “Oh my god, stop, we’re gonna get distracted.” 

“That’s okay with me,” Johnny says. 

“It’s not to some of us!” Mark calls from the living room. 

“I thought you were used to it,” Taeyong laughs. 

“I will _never_ be used to it,” Mark says. “Just go get married and move out already so I don’t have to hear all your gross kissing noises.” 

And it’s a nice dream, Johnny thinks. Maybe someday.  
  


♠

“This is so embarrassing,” Johnny says, adjusting his mask.

“No,” Taeyong says, and he nudges his arm into Johnny’s, the telltale sign that, if they weren’t in public, he’d be holding Johnny’s hand right now. “It’s adorable. My little sad boy. Running through Gangnam all by himself because he was so sad about my dick.” 

They’ve learned to laugh about it. Johnny doesn’t feel scared anymore. 

“You make it seem like I was out here just like, sobbing on the street,” Johnny says. 

“Were you?” 

“Shut up, I swear...” 

Taeyong laughs, pulls on his baseball hat. He’s shielding a new dye job, a pretty lilac color, and Johnny is constantly in amazement that his scalp can stand up to it. 

“What’s first?” Taeyong says. “Oh, right. Coffee.” 

“Coffee,” Johnny says, and Taeyong’s plan of retracing Johnny’s steps seemed a little weird at first, but the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the concept. 

They get a table in the back of the coffee shop, and they both get Americanos, and an apple crumble served in a little cast iron pan to split. It’s fucking _delicious_ , syrupy and sweet, the coffee acting as the perfect answer to the sugar. The place is empty enough and they’re secluded enough that Johnny feels comfortable hooking his ankle around Taeyong’s underneath the table as they eat. He smiles as he watches Taeyong scrape the pan clean.

“What’s next?” Taeyong asks. 

“Stop,” Johnny says. “Coffee’s enough.” 

“Nope,” Taeyong smiles. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us. Afternoon of shopping. Ice cream eaten sadly on the bench. Getting turned into a meme within the blink of an eye. Go to the movies. Cry. And then come home. Is that it?” 

“Yeah, basically,” Johnny says. 

“Then, where do you wanna go shopping?” 

Johnny rolls his eyes, but Taeyong bounces next to him on the balls of his feet. Johnny’s never been so in love. 

“I need new socks,” he says. 

“Socks,” Taeyong says. “We will get you so many socks. You won’t know what to do with these perfect socks.”  
  


♠

He hates to admit how much fun he’s having, retracing his steps with Taeyong alongside him. They walk through COEX, and they stop about every four seconds to touch something, talk about something, or worst case scenario, buy something. Johnny walks away with too many bags, more socks than any human being needs.

“But they had ducks on them,” Taeyong says, licking at his ice cream cone. “Like, what are you supposed to do? _Not_ get them?” 

“Probably could have done without the eggplant emoji ones,” Johnny says. 

“But you’ve got a huge dick,” Taeyong says. “It just fit too well.” 

“That has not been my experience.” 

“Oh my god,” Taeyong says, clasping a hand over his heart. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Johnny laughs, shoves Taeyong with a hand on his shoulder. He lingers too long, of course, but that’s become something of a fixture. They like to linger. 

“You think someone’s gotten a good picture yet?” Taeyong asks. “I don’t look sad enough, do I?” 

Johnny turns to appraise him, and Taeyong poses goofily, much like his well-documented day of self-loathing. It’s a caricature, and Taeyong can barely hold it together without laughing. 

“Nah,” Johnny says, and he has the distinct urge to ruffle Taeyong’s hair, pull him into a kiss. “You look way too happy.”  
  


♠

When they walk to the theater, Johnny heads to the bathroom, and when he comes out, Taeyong’s already paid for both of their tickets.

“I’m being _spoiled_ ,” Johnny says happily. 

“This is recompense,” Taeyong says, directing Johnny to the concessions. “All the bad times we didn’t talk.” 

“But we’re so open now.” 

“Disgustingly open,” Taeyong agrees. “You just want the usual? Nothing fancy?” 

Johnny nods, happy to have a usual, and he orders popcorn and the soda while Johnny waits. There is almost no one in the theater, and they sit in the back, so when they put the recliners all the way back, Johnny takes his jacket off, puts it between the two of them, and he hides their clasped hands underneath it. 

The movie, Johnny finds, is not a sad one. But a love story. And that will surely get out, become a meme of its own, but Johnny does not care one bit. He tightens Taeyong’s hand in his, feeling distinctly lucky.  
  


♠

It’s late when they get home, and everyone’s in their rooms. They walk hand in hand to their own, and Johnny hopes everyone in the world gets to feel the way he does. So happy, whole, and free.

They strip out of their clothes, into their pajamas. And when Johnny holds open the covers, Taeyong cuddles into him, head rested on Johnny’s bicep. Johnny loves that, loves the way he looks up at him, so he kisses him. Tries to put some of what he feels into that, and then, into words. 

“Thank you,” Johnny says against Taeyong’s lips. “For doing all this.” 

“It wasn’t much,” Taeyong says, but Johnny kisses him quiet, because yes, actually, it was. 

“Thank you,” Johnny whispers again. 

_Take it_ , Johnny thinks. _Let me show you how much you mean._

“Yeah,” Taeyong says with a soft, sleepy smile. “Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> to my darling sunlight, sol—i sincerely hope you enjoyed. i love you, you have become such a quick friend, and i credit all of that to your generosity, your kindness, and your compassion. thanks for being such a cool person. the world would be such a better place if everyone was like you. 
> 
> to everyone else—i hope you liked it! if you didn't, put it on my tab, and i will get back to you next time with something better (hopefully)
> 
> if you liked this, though, maybe give some of the other stuff i've written a shot :-) i've written a lot of exo, but hey, you never know. maybe you also like exo. i don't know. i'm not your dad. ok. thanks. have a good day/night! bye! 
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfsupremacist) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/wolfsupremacist)


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